


BFFS Get Married For A Week - Ryan and Shane

by aspookycryptidsock



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspookycryptidsock/pseuds/aspookycryptidsock
Summary: "As I was saying," Curly continues with a pointed glare in Ryan's direction. "It's my honor to join the two of you in unholy matrimony. The rules are simple, you'll live together, plan one date each, and cherish each other. Til week do you part."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Oh goodness! They have to pretend to be married for a week! I wonder if there will be miscommunications and misunderstandings? Perhaps sexual tension and domesticity? I have it on good authority there will be bed sharing and bickering. I bet these friends... will become lovers.

"I maintain that this is an awful idea."

"I think that Ryan and I are going to have an excellent time. I've long said that that between sitting next to each other at work, traveling together for work, and hanging out outside of work that we don't spend enough time together."

"Can I make him sleep on the couch?"

"I've always theorized that Ryan would be a very tender lover, so I'm really excited to get the chance to-"

"Okay, nope," Ryan said, stepping into Shane's talking head. "This is clickbaity enough, we're not using a take where you talk about what a tender lover I am."

"So what, more into the rough stuff?" Shane asks, still blatantly playing to camera. "I can see it, I guess. Wimp in the streets, freak in the sheets?"

"I want a fake divorce. I want this fake marriage to be over right this fucking second," Ryan sighs, looking helplessly into the camera. "He's gonna be like this all week."

"Mawwiage!" Shane proclaimed loudly from behind him. Ryan doesn't even have to turn around to know that he's got a giant shit eating grin on his giant face. He's just surprised it took Shane this long to make the obvious Princess Bride reference. It was going to be a long week.

-

"Hold hands," Curly says sternly. 

"Do I have to?" Ryan asks.

"I'm the fake minister of this fake wedding and you will do what I say, now hold his hand," Curly says. 

Ryan sighs and takes Shane's outstretched hands. Shane's wearing a tissue on his head like the world's laziest veil and Ryan's regretting a lot of things at the moment, but mostly that he finds it pretty fucking funny but doesn't want to give Shane the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Ryan, Shane," Curly says solemnly. "I think we all knew that it would eventually come to this moment. As someone who's been there through the years, watching you grow from coworkers to friends to ghost hunters to lovers-"

"Okay-"

"Let the man speak, honey," Shane says, squeezing Ryan's hands.

"Traitor," Ryan hisses. 

"As I was saying," Curly continues with a pointed glare in Ryan's direction. "It's my honor to join the two of you in unholy matrimony. The rules are simple, you'll live together, plan one date each, and cherish each other. Til week do you part."

"This is the happiest day of my life," Shane says, his voice choked up. Curly plucks off his tissue veil and wipes fake tears from Shane's eyes before carefully placing it back on his head. 

"Well, Ryan?" Curly asks. "Kiss your bride."

"I wouldn't even if I could reach," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and dropping Shane's hands. "Let's get this over with."

"You know newlyweds," Curly says to camera with an exaggerated wink and Ryan makes a mental note to make sure he gets editorial approval over this one.


	2. Day 1

"What do you think they're going to call us?" Shane asks. Ryan doesn't even bother to look up from his editing.

"Hey," Shane says, flicking his ear. It has the desired effect, and Ryan looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

"You know, ghoul boys, berry boys, what are they going to call us now? Matrimony mates?"

"That's awful," Ryan says, rolling his eyes and turning back to his laptop. 

"That's why I'm asking your opinion, my dude." Ryan looks up and then starts to grin to himself in the way that means he's about to make a truly terrible joke.

"Butt buddies," he says, giggling, and yep, there is.

"Oh, Ryan," Shane says. "Come on, man, you're better than that."

It gets him a genuine smile, and Shane relaxes a little more into the couch. It hasn't been awkward, it would be hard to with how much time they've spent together. Shane's learned to handle Ryan at his best and his absolute worst over the years, so it was really starting to weird him out that Ryan was mostly ignoring him in favor of editing what looked to be an episode they'd already gotten final approval on.

They'd talked about it when the idea came up and mostly shrugged and gone all in, as they tend to with most of the weird shit they end up doing for work, but Shane's wondering if Ryan's starting to have second thoughts about the whole thing. Which would be ironic considering that Shane himself has been sure this is going to be a week of complete torture for him, but he can't exactly tell Ryan that.

" _Sorry, dude, I can't fake marry you because of how I go home every day and doodle our names together in my notebook, planning to one day real marry you!_ " Okay, fine, that's an exaggeration, it's mostly just the kind of low level crush Shane tends to get on most people he genuinely clicks with. This one's just been inconveniently persistent.

"Committed chums?" Ryan tries, snapping Shane out of it.

"Nah, but hold onto that one in case you ever completely lose it from fear one of these days," Shane says, throwing Ryan finger guns.

"Wed boys?"

"No, but web boys is an idea," Shane says. "Let's make a solemn vow that if either of us ever gets bitten by a radioactive spider we catch that little fuck for the other one. Think of the videos we could make!"

"Not punchy enough, we can do better," Ryan grins. "We'd have to go with something like Arachnid Lads."

"Oh, that is excellent. I can see it now: Arachnid Lads Try Aerial Yoga."

"The Arachnid Lads Learn To Climb Buildings?"

"Oh shit," Shane says. "Oh, Ryan, you beautiful boy genius, just picture it. Us learning to climb skyscrapers in downtown LA? That is some real Ethan Hunt shit right there."

"Activate your Andrew Garfield crush and not your Tom Cruise crush, Christ," Ryan laughs. "Not everything is a chance to live out your fantasies."

"Well this marriage certainly isn't so far," Shane says, wiggling his eyebrows at Ryan.

"I'm going to ask for fucking hazard pay for this, I swear to god, Shane."

"Oh please, you regularly drag us from one decrepit, dilapidated domicile to the next in search of ghosts, you think Buzzfeed's going to pay you extra for the pleasure of my company after you've set that kind of standard?

"You proud of that alliteration, big guy?" Ryan asks, as if he doesn't already know that Shane absolutely is.

"Little bit," Shane says. "And you should be too, seeing as you, Ryan Steven Bergara, are the one who married me. For better or for worse, in alliteration and in pun."

"I fake married you. Under duress."

"Nice try, buddy, but I've seen you under duress. It involves a lot more panicked squealing and heavy breathing and so far this marriage has been disappointingly light on the heavy breathing, if you know what I mean." Shane winks at Ryan exaggeratedly because he knows Ryan hates it, and Ryan laughs and slumps back on the couch, face in his hands. 

"I don't know about that," Ryan says, and something inside of Shane relaxes at the sight of Ryan fully engaged, eyes shining and turned toward him, fully ready to give each other shit. "You were breathing pretty heavy when you carried me over the threshold."

"Yeah, well you almost dropped me," Shane fires back. "What are good are those arms if they're just for show?"

"Well if you hadn't insisted on doing it both ways in the first place and also insisted on being eight feet tall, it would have been fine."

"It's called equality, Ryan," Shane says. "We're partners in this here wedded bliss."

"Oh shit," Ryan says, his eyes widening. "Blissful boys?"

"Blissful boys!" Shane says, smiling down at Ryan and turning to point at the camera mounted on the wall. "You heard it here first, folks. Hashtag blissful boys. Get that baby trending!"

-

"This is weird, right?" Ryan asks later, turning over to face Shane in the dark. Shane's been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour now, listening to Ryan think too loud and slowly work himself into a state. 

"This is no different than any of the other times we've shared a bed, Ryan," Shane sighs. "In fact, if anything this is more normal, because you're not convinced a demon's going to teabag you in your sleep and there are no spiders or used needles scattered in the corner."

"I wonder if anyone has been?" Ryan asks, sounding entirely too awake and scooting closer. "Teabagged by a demon?"

"I don't know, but we should write a spec script and pitch it to CBS. That's one hell of a _Touched By An Angel_ reboot." Shane can't really see Ryan in the dark, but he can tell that he's smiling, and Ryan's close enough that he can feel the huff of his laugh against his arm. "Remind me of that one tomorrow, we should get some sleep."

"It's just-"

"Jesus, Ryan, c'mon," Shane says. He's tired, he's frustrated, and he's trying his very best not to be hurt by this shit. "It's not like we're on location. This is your own bed, in your own house. If it bothers you this much to sleep in the same bed as me you're the one who's going to have to take the couch, that thing's short."

"That's not it," Ryan says, and his voice is quiet enough that Shane immediately deflates and feels kind of like an asshole. "I just don't want shit to get weird because of this. I know it's a whole running joke, but this is really leaning into it and I don't want-" 

"Don't want anyone to think you're gay?" Shane should probably shut up, probably not push it when he isn't going to like what he hears, but now he is hurt, more than a little, that Ryan's more scared of sleeping in the same bed with him with no cameras around than he is the imaginary demons he's always pissing his pants over.

"What? No, dude," Ryan says, and he shifts again, raising up to his elbow. It's kind of weird to be looking up at him, even in the dark where he can barely see him. "I don't want this to make things weird between us. I'd rather not make the video than have it end up fucking up our friendship." He sounds sincere, and a little pissed, which, okay, fair. Shane had basically just accused him of being a homophobe when he was just misguidedly concerned for their friendship. 

"Too late to back out, buckaroo," Shane says, knocking his shoulder into Ryan's arm. "Curly already posted a not at all subtle Instagram story about how spooky wedded bliss is. You can't disappoint the kids now."

"Guess not," Ryan says, pressing a little closer against Shane's shoulder for just a second before he turns back over in bed. "Night, Shane."

"Night. Hope you don't get teabagged by a demon." He totally deserves it when Ryan smacks him in the face with a pillow.


	3. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Real fucking cute," Ryan says when they get into work and there's a wedding cake, complete with customized cake topper featuring Shane roughly a foot taller than Ryan and Ryan cowering in fright. 
> 
> "It is pretty cute, lookit that cute lil guy!" Shane says, booping tiny cake topper Ryan on his tiny nose. "Look how scared he is!"

Shane wakes up after Ryan. He's not surprised, Ryan sucks at sleeping at the best of times, but he also knows how little sleep he got and if Ryan got even less he's going to be grumpy. As if on queue, he hears the loud rattle of silverware coming from the kitchen.

"Who taught you how to load a dishwasher?" he asks as soon as he catches sight of Shane. His hair is going in about four different directions and the bags under his eyes are baggier than usual. He's also brandishing a butter knife.

"Uh, I don't know, whatever answer won't get me very bluntly stabbed?" he asks, holding up his hands.

"Well whoever it was sucked," Ryan huffs, and then he's off on a rant about proper dishwasher loading and Shane's a little horrified that the sight of Ryan in sweatpants angrily brandishing a spatula while his hair flops around is kind of turning him on. Horrified, but not entirely surprised.

The thing is, Shane's always loved this. Bickering, teasing, even fighting. It's all just kind of equated with foreplay in his mind, which has led to some awkward situations for him and his dick in the past. The past and, regrettably, smack dab in the middle of the present as Ryan lectured him on how to properly put a spoon in the dishwasher.

"You have to turn them the opposite way. You can't let the spoons spoon or they won't get clean," Ryan said, gesturing wildly with said offending spoon. He looked absolutely ridiculous and was genuinely fired up about this. That described Ryan in most situations, come to think of it, and he finds himself smiling fondly down at Ryan before he realizes it. 

Fuck. It's possible Shane may have overestimated his ability to keep his weird vague background crush on Ryan weird and vague and in the background.

"Who am I to deny the spoons what they want?" he asks when he realizes Ryan's running out of steam. He should just disengage. He should nod and smile or maybe ruffle Ryan's hair in the way Ryan absolutely hates. He should do anything but what he's doing, goading Ryan into a spat over cutlery that's going to make Ryan even crankier and Shane's dick even harder. 

This whole thing has taken a very distinct turn that he didn't anticipate.

"Next you'll be telling me two consenting forks can't fork in the privacy of their own dishwasher," Shane says as Ryan's eye narrow in that particularly annoyed way they tend to do. 

"Can you not turn this into a whole witty repartee thing?" Ryan asks. "I slept like shit last night and I just want to unload the dishwasher and not find crusty spoons." He deflates, visibly, apparently too tired to even fight with Shane over stupid shit, which is normally one of his favorite things to do. 

"Was it my giant, manly body taking up too much room on your wee person bed?" Shane asks, casually plucking the spoon from Ryan's hand to put it in the sink. "We should have done at this at my house."

"No way," Ryan says, taking the out as Shane starts to unload the rest of the dishes. He's keeping a careful, control freak eye on things, but he's letting it happen, which really drives home how tired he must be. "You'd be way too comfortable in your own place, I'd already be skewered with your limbs if you felt more at home."

"It is my main goal in any relationship. Skewering." Shane says, tossing another dirty spoon into the sink. Maybe Ryan had a point about the spoon thing, even though it still felt weirdly like a metaphor. 

"I bet," Ryan says, smirking at him, and Shane does not like how that stupid smug smirk is edging the bickering much more toward the foreplay side of things all of a sudden. He does not like it one bit.

"You're a pervert, Ryan," he says. "Now go lay back down. I'll wash your stupid crusty spoons and bring you breakfast because I'm a catch and you're lucky to have me."

"I could do worse, I guess," Ryan says, his smile turning sincere and fuck, oh no, that was worse. He squeezed Shane's shoulder on his way to the living room, and Shane was so busy processing exactly how utterly, totally fucked he was to even argue when Ryan called back over his shoulder, "I could do better, too, though. Learn how to load the dishwasher if you're going to live here, asshole."

-

"Real fucking cute," Ryan says when they get into work and there's a wedding cake, complete with customized cake topper featuring Shane roughly a foot taller than Ryan and Ryan cowering in fright. 

"It is pretty cute, lookit that cute lil guy!" Shane says, booping tiny cake topper Ryan on his tiny nose. "Look how scared he is!"

"No one else got this kind of shit for their videos, is all I'm saying," Ryan huffs as Steven turns the corner and collapses into laughter.

"Oh man!" he says, excitedly. "Oh man, they made you a whole wedding cake?"

"Why do you care, it's not covered in gold," Ryan fires back. 

"That's why we turned them down," Steven says. "Everyone knows Andrew and I would have gotten more views, but they couldn't promise us enough gold."

"More like there's no point, you two already spend most of your time going on romantic dates to expensive restaurants and lovingly feeding each other," Ryan says. Shane can see exactly where this is about to go when Andrew slowly and deliberately swivels in his chair and raises an eyebrow at Ryan. 

"As opposed to you two," he says. "Noted casual acquaintances who, when ideas were being floated for reviving this series, were first deemed as too obvious since you are, and this is a direct quote, 'Basically already married and possibly already doing it.'"

"What?" Ryan splutters. "We are not- who said that?"

"Oh, I did, I'm quoting myself," Andrew says with a shrug. "But I stand by it." 

-

"It's not even true, you know," Ryan says out of nowhere a few hours later. They're going over production notes for the next shoot and it takes Shane a second.

"Of course it's not, Ryan, chupacabras don't exist, that's just stoned people seeing goats."

"Not that, and there's actually a lot of evidence, I think you're going to like this one, I mean the married thing. Seriously, no one gave any of the other pairs this shit."

"Dude," Shane says with a sigh. "They didn't give anyone else shit because they weren't getting this kind of rise out of them. How did you survive high school?"

"I'm not rising," Ryan says, and he looks like he's about a second away from honest to god pouting. Shane's a little into it, and a lot judging himself for it.

"You're rising. Just a tad. Just a smidgen," he says. "You might not be fully erect but you're at least stirring."

"I truly despise you," Ryan says, but he's full on giggling because he's a sucker for a dick joke, so he's not selling it particularly well. 

He goes back to his research for a while, and Shane doesn't actually need to be here for this but Ryan can get a little caught up if no one's keeping track of him, and he can also get very cranky if he forgets lunch and his blood sugar drops. Besides, Ryan fully focused on something he's really passionate about is always one of Shane's favorite Ryans, and it's not creepy to like being there to see it, as long as he doesn't stare.

He's been telling himself this for a good few years now, which he's pretty sure means he passed creepy a long time ago, but hey, what can you do?

"I don't know how you can just not care what people think of you," Ryan says a while later. "I mean, I admire the hell out of it, but I've never had that." He's very carefully not looking anywhere but at his laptop.

"Ryan, I care what people think of me. Everyone cares what people think of them, I just learned a long time ago to only care about the opinion of people who were worth it to me. What the fuck does it matter if people think we act like we're married? It's worked out pretty well for us so far, has it not?" he asks, gesturing at their set. 

"I mean, it's worked out okay, don't get a bigger head than you already have," Ryan says, and he's smiling at Shane but he still looks so fucking tired. 

"I think," he says, standing up and pulling Ryan to his feet, "that you are kind of missing the point of this whole thing. We've been given the perfect excuse to bankroll an entire week of hanging out with Buzzfeed's cash. The fact that we're not at Chipotle right now eating burritos the size of my head that neither of us has to pay for is frankly irresponsible."

Ryan blinks, and then looks longingly at his laptop, and Shane thinks he's really going to have hard press on this until Ryan laughs and scrubs a hand over his face. 

"You know, you make a really excellent point," he says. 

"Well that's because I'm a really excellent husband," Shane says, offering Ryan his arm mostly as a joke and trying not to let his surprise show when Ryan takes it and lets Shane steer him outside.

-

"Why do we even have to do the whole date thing? Maybe we're a married couple who likes to stay in and eat pizza and watch movies," Ryan says, helpfully gesturing to the movie with his pizza.

"That's the kind of friends we are," Shane says, reaching over and grabbing the cheese that's about to fall off Ryan's pizza for himself. That's what he gets for endangering cheese. "You think I wouldn't step it up if we were married? Just you wait, sir, I'm gonna knock your bobby socks clean off at the sock hop, tomorrow. Show you a real good time." Shane's kind of pizza drunk, and also just the tiniest bit drunk drunk.

"For real, though, what are we supposed to do? I guess we've made a pretty boring video so far. We could always just go scout one of the local places I've been looking at and say it's a date. Two birds, one stone."

"Ryan, I have a date planned," Shane says slowly. "Don't you? That's kind of a part of this. In fact it's kind of the main part of this, jokes about cherishing each other aside." 

"Of course I do," Ryan says in a way that very clearly means he does not.

"C'mon dude, token effort," Shane says. "This clearly isn't your favorite thing but you agreed to do this and we've got to at least film something." He knows he's not doing a great job at hiding his annoyance, but, well. He's annoyed.

"We'll see how good your date is, Madej," Ryan says. "I haven't planned anything yet because how am I supposed to know how to beat you if I don't know what you have planned?"

"Dating is not, by definition, a competitive sport, you know that, right?" Shane asks. Ryan's eyes are a little wild and Shane just really hopes he doesn't end up having to play some kind of actual sport on Ryan's date. Oh god, he hadn't even been worried about that until right now. He was a fool. A rube. 

"You're not doing it right, then," Ryan says, and it doesn't make any sense but he hands Shane the last piece of pizza and slumps a little closer to him on the couch, and Shane decides it's better not to dwell too long on thoughts of Ryan's general intensity and competitive nature when he's drunk enough that his brain is immediately trying to translate that into a sexy situation.

Ryan takes a swig of beer and burps, loudly, in Shane's general direction. It helps.


	4. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's starting to feel even stupider for not connecting things sooner and also desperate for his brain to stop trying to realize things right now. It's a really inconvenient time for him to develop a sense of self awareness.

"Dude," Ryan says, turning to Shane with the widest eyes Shane's ever seen on him for non fear reasons. " _Dude_!"

"Go on, boy," Shane says from behind the camera, putting on his very best Southern gentleman accent. "Go on, git. You're home now." Ryan's still staring wide eyed around the California Sneaker Museum. He starts wandering toward one of the displays of Jordans like he's being pulled by a magnet. Which might be true, Shane's never really understood Ryan's whole sneaker thing. 

It just looks like a room full of old shoes and sports memorabilia to Shane, but Ryan looks like he's at some sort of church and very close to having a religious experience, and Shane almost feels bad for the curator as Ryan starts talking a mile a minute, gesturing wildly around him. 

_Beat this, Bergara_ , he thinks smugly. 

-

"I didn't even know that was there," Ryan says, still babbling excitedly about a whole lot of shit Shane knows nothing about. "I knew there was one in Boston, but not here. Why didn't I know that was there?"

"I tried to get them to agree to let us fly to that one, but apparently that was ostentatious and unnecessary."

"You were. Wait, are you serious?" Ryan asks, giving Shane a strange, considering look. "You tried to get them to fly us to Boston for a date?"

"I pitched an entire honeymoon series with increasingly absurd locations hoping they'd cave on Boston, actually, but no such luck."

"Shane," Ryan says. He sounds weirdly sincere and a little shell shocked and Ryan's whole weird thing about not knowing how to react to people being nice to him has never been more endearing.

"I told you, I'm a catch," Shane says. He's starting to feel dangerously smug, especially since they're at some tiki bar which guarantees one or both of them are going to get totally wasted on drinks that taste like sugar and not alcohol. He can't actually tell if Ryan's already halfway there or if he's still just drunk on sneakers. Maybe a bit of both.

Still, he figures he might as well gloat a little, even if it's mostly a joke. It's not like he's ever going to get this for real, and what's the harm in having a little fun pretending?

-

He figures out the harm an hour later when Ryan, just tipsy enough to lose his filter, comes back from the bathroom and bypasses his own chair, standing next to Shane and leaning against his side. 

"Today was a good day," he says. He's looking up at Shane and smiling and it's not an unfamiliar sight but Ryan's usually not pressed all along him when it happens, and he's definitely not toying with the cuff of Shane's shirt.

"Know what would make it even better?" he asks, and Shane feels like he's maybe having some sort of stroke and he knows for a fact that he is reading way too much into this and he's very, very glad he stopped after one drink.

"If they'd let you try on the shoes?" he asks, wincing a little when his voice comes out strained. 

"Oh, fuck yes," Ryan moans in a way that is not helping anything at all. "But also, if maybe, just for tonight, we break the rules and you let me go home with," he stops, looking down at his phone. "Bethany," he says staring at the screen. "You know, instead of you."

"What?" On the vast list of things Shane was expecting, that was not even near the top. When did Ryan even have time to get someone's number? He was gone for five minutes.

"Bethany," Ryan repeats. "Corner, brunette, blue dress. Don't look, but she gave me her number and heavily implied that we should go to another bar, and no offense big guy but it's going to kind of ruin the mood if I bring her home and all eight feet of you is in my bed."

"Unbelievable," Shane says, because it's the only thing his brain is producing at the moment. "You're sexiling me for someone after I spent four hours following you around today with a camera while you cried over shoes? Do you usually leave a date and go home with someone else?"

"Well no, but it's not like it was a real date," Ryan says, straightening up and glaring at him. "Come on, man, this is not a big deal. I'd do it for you, and it's not like anyone's going to throw a fit if we don't film ourselves brushing our teeth for the third night in a row. What does it matter to you?"

"You know," Shane says, clenching his jaw and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. "That is an excellent point. There is absolutely no logical reason for this to matter to me, so. You have fun, buddy," he says, patting Ryan on the head and deliberately fucking up his hair. Ryan pushes his hand away and opens his mouth, but Shane's already heading for the door before whatever it is gets out.

-

Shane doesn't fume. He barely even angsts. He mostly just judges himself the entire way home, and up the stairs, and into his apartment. It feels vaguely weird to be back before he planned to, and smells a little stale and nothing at all like Ryan's place, and wow. Shane really fucked this one up, huh?

He's been sitting on his couch in the dark and feeling sorry for himself because he is a total cliche for a good while when someone pounds on his door.

-

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Ryan says as soon as Shane opens the door, and then, "Were you sitting here in the dark?"

"No," Shane says, reaching over Ryan's shoulder to flip the light switch.

"I went all the way to my place and then had to call another Uber to get here when you weren't there. It was the same guy. Do you know how awkward that is?" Ryan's kind of babbling, he knows, but he is still a little drunk and still a lot confused about what the hell happened at the bar.

"I weep for you," Shane says dryly. He hasn't actually invited Ryan in, but it's far from the first time Ryan's barged his way into Shane's apartment, so he lets muscle memory propel him to the couch and then feels like he's made a tactical error when Shane doesn't move from the doorway.

"Seriously, not cool," Ryan says. 

"Just go home, Ryan," Shane snaps, actually snaps, and it's rare enough for Shane to be in a truly bad mood but even more rare for him to actually let it show so obviously, and Ryan's starting to get the sinking feeling he really, really fucked something up here.

"Come with me," Ryan says. "Drive me back, and we'll go over the footage from today, I want to see what you got."

"So now you're committed to the video, huh?" Shane asks, and Ryan wants to defend himself but he's not entirely sure what he's defending himself against and Shane's already opening the door and gesturing impatiently.

It hits him about halfway home that while he's confused about why he's feeling it, he's not actually confused about _what_ he's feeling. The awkward, tense silence, Shane staring silent and barely blinking at the road as Ryan fidgets in the passenger seat trying to figure out what he did wrong.

This is the exact same way every fight with every ex-girlfriend he's ever had has gone. Which makes no sense, because even fake marriage aside, Shane's not a jealous guy in any aspect of his life. He's almost infuriatingly go with the flow about things, and there's no other explanation for why he'd get so upset about Ryan trying to get laid other than the really, really obvious one which is insane. Shane's committed to his work, but he's not so committed that he's going to play fake jealous over Ryan getting a girl's number.

Or, well. Maybe that wasn't the problem. They pull into the parking garage of Ryan's building and Shane gets out of the car without even bothering to wait for Ryan before he heads for the elevator. Shane isn't jealous but he does expect a lot of people, sometimes, and it's possible, maybe just a little tiny bit possible, that Ryan was kind of an asshole here. Shane had put effort in to the date, real effort to do something Ryan would like, not to mention trying to get them flown out to Boston all for what was going to amount to a 15 minute video at most because he knew it would make Ryan happy.

Shane was right, he was a catch and Ryan was the worst fake husband and real life best friend ever.

"Look, dude," Ryan tries once they're through the door to the apart. "I didn't-" He doesn't actually know what to say. He can't even wrap his head around Shane not only planning an actual date, but planning a really thoughtful one. Ryan was going to take them to a theme park or location scouting. 

It kind of floored him, back at the bar, and Ryan's starting to feel even stupider for not connecting things sooner and also desperate for his brain to stop trying to realize things right now. It's a really inconvenient time for him to develop a sense of self awareness.

"Let's just go to bed," Shane says. "It was a long day. We can review the footage tomorrow or whatever."

"C'mon." Ryan says, full on wheedling. He knows it works when he gives Shane this look in all matters except crackpot theories. Once he'd even gotten Shane to admit that he'd seen a suspicious shadow, but only on the condition that he never mention it again. He's mentioned it several times, and every time he's gotten out of suffering the full consequences of Shane's annoyance with this look. 

"Look, it's fine, okay?" Shane says, even as his entire body is tense and angled away from Ryan. He hasn't smiled at Ryan since the bar and it's starting to make Ryan feel nervous and a little twitchy.

"It's clearly not fine, and we are not going to have the kind of marriage where one of us says it's fine and we go to sleep angry. My mom says you never go to bed angry."

"Your mom's a lovely woman, I should've fake married her," Shane says. He's trying to break the tension, and it almost works but the fact that it doesn't is what's really worrying Ryan. 

"Yeah well you fake married me, for better or for worse, right?" 

"You're giving me an incredible in to point out that you're the worst," Shane says, and Ryan really and truly is awful at this whole not being kind of a dick thing, he's realizing.

"Dude. C'mon," Ryan says. "Alexa, play Ghoul Boys in Full Effect." Shane can't be upset when listening to their shooting road trip playlist, it's a known fact. "See? It's even ironic!" Ryan says, smiling hopefully at him as Don't Fear The Reaper starts to play.

"We can't even use any of the in house footage with the music playing," Shane says, pushing past Ryan to head for the bedroom. "I just want to go to bed, okay?"

"No," Ryan says, catching his wrist and then dropping it just as fast. It's somehow incredibly important to him that Shane at least smiles at him again before he goes to bed. He doesn't want to look at why that is too closely, but it still matters. 

"Shut up and dance, idiot," he says, and then he floats above his body to watch Shane's eyes narrow at him as he starts to dance. That could have come out better, but here he is now. He's dancing. There's nothing to be done, he's started this and now he's got to commit or it's even more embarrassing.

"Gee, who could resist such a kind invitation?" Shane says, and his lack of even a shimmy seems pointed.

"I'm trying to apologize, here," Ryan says. He's kind of out of ideas, so maybe he'll give honesty a shot.

"Your idea of apologizing is telling me to shut up, calling me an idiot, and forcing me to dance with you?"

"Guess so," Ryan says, turning his shrug into an arm wave. "Is it working?"

"Little bit," Shane says, and he's rolling his eyes but then he's dancing in Ryan's general direction. It's missing some of his usual arm flailing excitement, but they're kind of close to the television and this way he hopefully won't knock it off the wall with his five mile limbs.

"See?" Ryan says, feeling lighter than he has since it slowly dawned on him that Shane had actually left him at the bar. The relief is almost physical, and he hadn't even realized how awful he'd felt until Shane shimmies over to him, bopping along to the death of 40 thousand men and women every day. "We're making up. This is me, cherishing the fuck outta you." 

"You're doing something, all right," Shane says, his voice sounding weirdly strained again like it had back at the bar, but then Shane smiles at him, softer than usual in a way Ryan's not sure how to read, and he's suddenly in Shane's arms and upside down as Shane dips him.

His response to this is, horrifyingly, to giggle. 

"Oh my god," he says breathlessly as Shane pulls him back up. "You dipped me." 

"I did," Shane says and he sounds only a bit less surprised than Ryan, and he hasn't let go of Ryan's waist yet. "I did dip you."

"I've never been dipped before," Ryan says, kind of stupidly. He feels kind of dizzy. It must be the blood that rushed to his head. They're a lot closer than they were before and Ryan has to swallow a truly hysterical urge to laugh at the thought of where he had thought this night might be going for him and where he's ended up.

"Well now they're definitely going to put fair use music over this and put it in the video," Shane says, and there it is, finally, his usual smile blooming wide and his eyes crinkled up, and fuck. Ryan feels dizzy again, and there's no convenient excuse this time. 

"Huh?" he asks, eloquently, acutely aware of the fact that Shane is still holding onto him and just kind of swaying them. Shane's hands are very big, and Ryan's used to feeling small next to him, but never in this particular way. He could probably fit his hands entirely around Ryan's waist if he tried. It's a weird thought, and he's really feeling betrayed by his own brain a lot, tonight. He must be drunker than he thought he was. 

_Baby, I'm your man!_ The lyric cuts through the haze in his brain in a way that feels a little pointed.

"You've never been dipped before," Shane repeats, as if that makes it obvious. "I doubt it was the first time they were hoping to get on camera from us, but still. That's some exciting stuff."

"Ridiculous," Ryan says, and he's not sure which one of them he's talking to, but Shane grins at him again anyway and squeezes his waist as the song ends.

"Ever been twirled?" Shane asks as Take Me Home Tonight starts to play. Ryan's never going to be able to listen to this playlist normally again, he can feel it. 

Shane doesn't actually wait for an answer, grabbing his hand and sending him spinning, but at least there's a reason to feel dizzy again.


	5. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's just gotten all mixed up and Shane happens to be there, in his bed, and it's just a confusing thing for his brain. And his dick. Neither of them are particularly known for their reasoning skills, so it's not a surprise.

Ryan wakes up feeling weird. He doesn't even feel particularly hung over, just _weird_. Shane's still asleep behind him, long limbs splayed over well more than his fair share of the bed, and Ryan turns carefully to look at him. He's on his back, his hair going everywhere and an arm thrown out to Ryan's side of the bed. It's pressing into his side when he settles back down on the bed, which should maybe also be weird, but maybe the fact that it doesn't is the weirdest thing of all?

God, he needs coffee. But making coffee will wake Shane up like a cartoon dog following the scent of a pie, and Ryan suddenly can't deal with the thought of having to be around an awake Shane, all tall and stupid and in his space and looking at him. Always looking at him, and Ryan feels a kind of petty satisfaction as he lets his eyes roam over Shane. It's not creepy if it's revenge.

The sunlight's hitting him just right so he's almost glowing golden, and maybe Ryan shouldn't have gotten his creepy sleep staring revenge at a time when he was half hard by virtue of waking up. It's been awhile since Ryan had someone in his bed, and he's going to go ahead and cut those thoughts off right there, because it's still early enough that his brain isn't fully online and he starts thinking about the girl's number in his phone, and her long legs in her dress, and then he blinks and he's picturing Shane in her dress, Shane taking it off, Shane crawling into his bed like he has the last three days but with a very different intent, and just. Dude, what the fuck?

"Are you watching me sleep?" Shane asks hoarsely and he's not proud of it but Ryan's so startled he actually yelps and scrambles back so quickly he almost falls out of the bed.

"Jesus," Shane says, warm and soft and just barely holding in laughter as he reaches out and squeezes Ryan's shoulder. It's all very familiar, it's the same way he tries to chill Ryan out on shoots, but usually they're not in the same bed and they're wearing shirts and Shane's not tugging on his shoulder until he falls back onto the bed.

"Go back to sleep," he says, and he's turned toward Ryan and curled in a little. Ryan can feel Shane's breath against his shoulder, feel Shane's hair tickling at his neck, and Ryan briefly considers that he would like to feel Shane's arm wrapped around his waist again like last night when he'd held onto Ryan and dipped him, and no, seriously, what the actual fuck?

"I've gotta, uh. I've got to go," Ryan says, jumping out of the bed so quickly he bangs his toe against the night stand and curses quietly under his breath.

"Where?" Shane asks. "It's a Saturday. Saturdays are for sleeping until noon and eating brunch."

"Gym," Ryan says hurriedly. He can not for the fucking life of him figure out why everything in him is trying to tell him to get back in bed. Maybe Shane really would pull him in, wrap his arm around Ryan and kiss his neck and holy shit. 

It's just because he could have gotten laid yesterday. He's just gotten all mixed up and Shane happens to be there, in his bed, and it's just a confusing thing for his brain. And his dick. Neither of them are particularly known for their reasoning skills, so it's not a surprise.

"I'll make you mimosas later if you come back to bed," Shane says, sounding half asleep and already burrowing back into the blankets. 

"Gym," Ryan repeats dumbly. "Working out. Exercise. It's important. You have good… sleep. Okay, bye," Ryan babbles, and he grabs his keys and his phone and his wallet and walks out of the door in only his sweatpants. Luckily, Shane's already asleep again by the time he slinks back in and quietly grabs his gym bag and shoes. 

-

For lack of anything to do besides sit in his car and freak out, Ryan does go to the gym. This proves to be a mistake. It's not even that he's having some kind of big sexuality crisis. He's gotten comfortable with the fact that sometimes he finds other dudes attractive. He's even gotten comfortable with the fact that sometimes his thoughts go from admiring Chris Hemsworth's biceps to wondering how easily he could pick Ryan up but that's normal for everyone, he thinks.

What's not normal is lifting weights at 7am while your best friend sleeps in your bed and you try to covertly ogle the muscular, sweaty men around you to decide if you're suddenly down with dick in a more than theoretical way.

His arms ache, one of the guys using the squat rack keeps staring back with a little too much interest, and he's so hungry he decides it's time to suck it up and stop hiding from his own apartment. He shouldn't have thought of the word suck.

Goddammit. 

-

"Good timing," Shane calls out the second Ryan's through the door. "I made bacon, because you're obviously still a growing boy and I know there's something about protein and gains? Getting swole? Getting your pump on?"

"Please don't say pump," Ryan says eloquently. Shane is standing in his kitchen in his boxers and the ruffled floral apron his mom had left behind at some point, and then he's turning to pour Ryan a cup of coffee and Ryan's eyes fly immediately to his ass, and what the fuck? 

"Okay fine, it's also kind of an apology for last night. I overreacted, and I'm sorry. Consider the coffee my formal apology to you and the bacon my formal apology to your dick," Shane says, turning to set the mug down. 

"It's not- that wasn't all your fault, look, Shane-" Ryan tries, but then his mind goes completely blank because if he keeps talking he's going to say something very, very stupid about other ways that Shane could possibly apologize to him and his dick.

"Let's just eat our breakfast and chalk it up to sneaker mania and too much rum." Shane smiles at him and sets a plate down on the table, motioning Ryan over, but it's a tight smile, the kind he gives people when he desperately wants to tell them they're full of shit about something. He glances at the doorway, and Ryan follows his eyes to the little red blinking light of the go pro mounted there. Interesting. 

"Yeah," Ryan says, walking over and taking a seat at the table. He feels a desperate need to reach over and untie the apron strings around Shane's neck, so he grabs his mug and takes a too hot drink of coffee. "Mania sounds right."

-

Shane's been playing some kind of game that's got a lot of pretty hipster graphics and puzzles but not enough shooting for Ryan to pay attention to for hours, and Ryan's been slumped into the corner of the sofa pretending to edit for just as long. It's not even a particularly uncomfortable silence, but it's enough silence that it's making him feel off. Normally he'd be trying to distract Shane and make him fuck up, or Shane would be teasing him about being a control freak for trying to fine tune footage halfway through a shoot, but instead it's a lot of Shane staring straight ahead and Ryan staring at Shane over his laptop screen. If Shane can tell, he's studiously ignoring it, and Ryan's pretty thankful.

What he's not thankful for is how much his arms and shoulders are aching from ignoring his limits at the gym. Not even a shower made him feel better, and it's the icing on the cake of Ryan's confusing and awkward day. He groans as he moves for the first time in a while, rolling his shoulders and setting his laptop aside to go grab some Advil. 

"Get too swole?" Shane asks, and when Ryan looks up he's paused his game and is staring at Ryan's arms in a way that's probably completely platonic and normal but is, in the moment, making Ryan want to take his shirt off so Shane can look more, and what the fuck, seriously, what the fuck? Is this his life now? 

"No one says swole," Ryan tells him. "No one. But yes, I went a little overboard, I'm sore."

"Too swole, too furious," Shane deadpans, and Ryan hates that he finds it endearing. It's the forced intimacy. That's got to be it. His brain is getting confused from all the playing house bullshit. They'll finish the video, Shane will go home, and everything will be back to normal and he won't feel like he's about to jump out of his skin every time Shane touches him and wait, since when is Shane touching him?

"C'mon," Shane stage whispers, suddenly right beside him on the couch and pushing Ryan down to the floor. "Today's been boring and this is gold."

"What?" Ryan asks, confused about pretty much everything but mostly about why he's letting Shane push him onto the floor between his legs and why he's looking at him quizzically when Ryan turns around to face him and swallows heavily, but definitely not because his mouth was watering. 

"Turn around, dude," Shane says. "Do you want a massage or not?" His voice sounds deeper than usual, and that's not helping, and Ryan just kind of nods dumbly and turns around to settle on the floor. Right. A massage. Jesus Christ, since when does he want to suck any dick that badly, much less Shane's? 

Shane digs his long fingers right into the muscles of Ryan's shoulders, Ryan moans loud enough to be embarrassing, and he wonders idly if, maybe, a demon did follow him home at some point and has just been biding its time to figure out the best way to really fuck him over. A boner demon. He bites back a hysterical laugh.

"Told you, I'm a catch," Shane says. "Magic fingers, baby." Ryan desperately wants him to stop talking.

"Don't- don't flatter yourself," he says, his voice catching. He's glad his back is to Shane because he's pretty sure he's _blushing._ "I'm really sore."

"Yeah?" Shane asks, and Ryan's expecting him to start giving him shit again, but instead Shane just flattens his palms and runs them across Ryan's shoulders and down his arms and squeezes his way back up. It's not a massage technique Ryan is particularly familiar with, but he also doesn't trust his voice to point that out so he just nods.

"Here?" he asks, digging his thumbs into the base of Ryan's neck, and Ryan's head drops forward without his permission as Shane shifts behind him to get closer. His legs box Ryan in a little more and he puts more pressure behind his movements, and Ryan is not going to moan again, he's fucking not. He has to have some dignity left.

Shane starts to work his way down Ryan's back, his hands big and strong and putting just enough pressure to make it really satisfying, and Ryan manages to stay quiet right until his brain helpfully supplies him with an image of Shane doing the same thing in a very different situation. Maybe while he's in Shane's lap, or face down on the bed with Shane behind him, or right here on the floor but on his knees. Ryan moans. Shane's fingers dig in a little harder.

"I hope they put this in," Shane says, and he's trying to sound casual but Ryan can hear the rasp in his throat. "Daysha's going to love having more evidence that you're noisy no matter what you're doing."

It's almost like Shane is doing it on purpose, now.

His hands keep working on Ryan's neck and shoulders, occasionally sliding down his back, and Ryan's getting really close to- something. Something embarrassing, and he's weighing the options of if it would be more embarrassing to come in his pants from a shoulder rub or confess his confusing new boner feelings about Shane to Shane, and that's when his stomach growls, loudly.

That wasn't even on his radar of embarrassing shit to worry about. Shane laughs behind him and squeezes his shoulders one last time. 

"I'll go get food," he says, standing up quickly behind Ryan and he's halfway to the door before Ryan manages to turn around. He feels boneless and more than a little out of it.

"We can get delivery," he says, and his voice sounds almost slurred. He swallow heavily.

"It's fine," Shane says, not turning around. "Quicker this way."

The door shuts behind him, and Ryan slumps against the foot of the sofa. The little red light on the camera mounted above the tv blinks at him, and he seriously considers the repercussions of ripping it down and erasing the footage.

-

"Feel better?" Shane asks. Ryan starts a little in the dark where he's staring up at the ceiling. He thought Shane was already asleep. "Less sore?" he clarifies when Ryan doesn't answer.

"Uh, yeah," Ryan says, suddenly even more aware of the few inches of space between their bodies in the bed. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, I'm legally obligated. That's part of the vows, right? In sickness and in health, in swoleness and in pain?" 

"Shut up, noodle arms," Ryan says, grinning up at nothing. "Just because some of us have biceps doesn't mean you get to say swole whenever you want."

"You weren't complaining about my biceps earlier," Shane says, and Ryan starts again when his hand shoots out. It lands on his stomach at first and he tenses but Shane quickly redirects and squeezes his shoulder. "They're not show muscles, but they work, do they not?" He digs his fingers in again, and Ryan can barely see his face which makes it even worse. It's so dark, he could press closer and pretend it was an accident. He could do a lot of things, but those would probably be harder to explain, so instead he turns his back to Shane and squeezes his eyes shut.

"They'll do," he says, missing Shane's hand on him as soon as he pulls it back. "We should go to sleep, big day tomorrow."

"Yeah?" Shane asks, sounding surprised. 

"Yeah," Ryan says, relieved when he hears Shane shift and settle back against the pillows. "It's a surprise."

"Is the surprise that you still have no idea what we're doing?"

"Nope," Ryan says, and he's not even lying. He had a lot of free time while he was watching Shane's profile and having a quiet crisis earlier, and he figured he kind of owed Shane something better than a familiar theme park. 

"Then you're right," Shane says happily. "That _is_ a surprise!"

"I'm full of 'em lately," Ryan says, and if Shane notices his voice waver, he doesn't call him on it.


	6. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ryan Steven Bergara," Shane says, sincerely. "This might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

"I'm just going to ask this once, and I solemnly swear not to make fun of you if the answer is yes," Ryan says, and it's too early for these kind of promises because Ryan sucks at keeping them, but Shane gestures sleepily with his coffee cup and Ryan seems to take it as the agreement that it is. 

"Did you pack your theme park dad hat?"

"I didn't… not pack it," Shane says. He's already suspicious of Ryan not telling him what they're doing today, and this isn't helping things. He fully expected a theme park, so he doesn't understand what all the mystery is for. 

"As expected," Ryan says, and Shane can tell that he wants to tease him, but he's also smiling indulgently and honestly, Shane's just relieved that they both seem to have slept off the bizarre tension of yesterday and he's back to his own base level of normal _having a thing for Ryan_ tension.

"So, theme park?" He asks.

"Nah," Ryan says, which genuinely surprises him. "I've got plans, just you wait and see."

"Plans that aren't a theme park but do involve my theme park hat?"

"Yep." He looks so smug, and it's infuriating. 

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Shane sighs.

"Nope!" Ryan says. "But just you wait. I'm gonna rock your world, big guy." He then promptly chokes on the strip of bacon he shoves into his mouth, and Shane considers it karma but he lets Ryan steal a piece of his bacon anyway because he's really and truly lost control of his life.

-

"I don't like blindfolds," Shane says for what has to be the fifth time in the past minute. Ryan had insisted, and it's not that Shane doesn't trust him but he very much doesn't trust the bustling world he can hear around them as Ryan leads him out of the car and then into some kind of building if the sudden rush of cool air is any indication. 

"We're almost there," Ryan says, his hands firm on Shane's shoulders, guiding him. "Into the elevator, then I'm going to film you walking in, okay? I'll be right there, I just can't hold onto you but you're not going to run into anything." He's talking low and calming, and it's actually pretty reassuring. He slides his hands down from Shane's shoulders to his waist and holds him there instead, warm through Shane's shirt. "You're too fucking tall," he grumbles.

Shane does not point out that they're in an elevator and he's pretty confident in his ability to stand in one place, blindfold or not. After what seems like forever with Ryan standing just close enough that it's making Shane want to fidget, the elevator dings and shakes to a stop. Shane's stomach feels a little fluttery, but it was a long ride. They're probably high up. Normal, non feelings related stuff, he's sure.

"Okay," Ryan says, moving in close enough that Shane can absolutely feel him pressed all along his back now. "When I say so, just walk out a few steps, the ground's level and there's nothing in your way. You can take off the blindfold when I say."

Shane just nods and very deliberately ignores Ryan's breath on his neck. Ryan finally lets go of him and Shane hears him rustling with the camera bag, then he's moving around Shane and the doors open with a whoosh. 

"Okay, action!" Ryan says, and Shane can hear the excitement in his voice. He sounds like a little kid, the way he does when he's really, really excited to show Shane something, and he even stops being annoyed at the blindfold as he takes a few cautious steps forward, feeling the ground under his feet grow a bit harder and the air warmer. He thinks they're outside now, based on the noise, which doesn't make a lot of sense but it is Ryan. For all the knows he's about to find himself on some kind of haunted blimp. Which actually sounds pretty cool.

"Grand reveal time," Ryan says, and Shane reaches up pull his blindfold off. 

"Well… _huh_ ," he says. "I've got to admit, Ryan, I was not expecting this."

"Okay," Ryan says, bouncing a little before he remembers he's holding the camera. "So, we're here at the Rooftop Cinema Club, an outdoor movie experience here in downtown LA, showing the classics you love in an environment you'll never forget!"

Shane nods, giving the camera an exaggerated smile as he looks around. "This is beautiful!" he says, playing into the plug. They're alone on the rooftop, a giant screen in front of them and an overstuffed love seat the only other thing around.

"Okay," Ryan says, shutting off the camera. "Sorry, part of the deal, but seriously, isn't this cool?" 

"It is, indeed, pretty cool," Shane says. It's actually kind of amazing, the view's incredible and he doesn't even know what they're watching but he's already excited about seeing it projected on the giant screen.

"A wise man pointed out that Buzzfeed is footing the bill here, so I figured go big or go home, right?" he says, and Shane can tell he's nervous about this, fidgety and wide eyed and eager for approval and as it always does, it just makes him want to take Ryan by the shoulders and chill him out a little. 

"Did you rent out the entire rooftop?" Shane asks, playing along. He's surprised Ryan doesn't want to get the whole thing on camera, especially since they won't be able to show any of the movie footage. 

"I did," Ryan says. "Just you and me and a very tall building and Jurassic Park."

"The hat!" Shane says, giving it an exaggerated tip in Ryan's direction.

"The hat!" he replies, pleased. "Oh, and one more thing," he says as the elevator dings with movie perfect timing and it really is a shame Ryan's not filming this part because he is _selling it_. An employee wheels out an old fashioned popcorn cart and gives them an exaggerated bow before heading back into the elevator.

"Is that-"

"Unlimited popcorn," Ryan says, smiling up at him in a way that makes Shane feel like he's back in the elevator, his stomach swooping. 

"Ryan Steven Bergara," Shane says, sincerely. "This might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

"I'm a catch?" he asks, reaching up and tugging on the brim of Shane's hat. He's standing close, and suddenly the weird tension is back and Shane takes a hasty step backward.

"You're a catch," he says, carefully staring at the popcorn machine instead of Ryan. "Now let's gorge ourselves on popcorn and watch Jeff Goldblum walk seductively toward a giant pile of shit."

"You say the sweetest things."

-

The love seat is very clearly designed for cuddling, and by the fourth time Shane tries to wiggle his way out of the dip that's pushing him up against Ryan's side, Ryan rolls his eyes and throws a piece of popcorn at him.

"Stop wiggling, it's kind of cold anyway."

It is very much LA at the tail end of summer, it's not cold, but Shane takes the excuse and lets himself settle back into the cushions and up against Ryan's side. It's a recliner, and it's pretty comfortable, and once he relaxes it really is a pretty great view of the screen.

" _Na na na na na, it's a dinosaur, oh my god you guys, holy shit!_ " Ryan sings over the iconic theme as they see the Brontosaurus for the first time.

"God, the effects are still so good," Shane says. They've both seen the movie countless times, but it never gets less impressive. It was a very good choice.

"So, better than location scouting?" Ryan asks, turning until he's facing Shane and fully pressed against him. Shane's had one ear of his headphones off for a while now so they can quote their favorite lines at each other, but Ryan still leans in closer than he needs to so he can talk in Shane's ear. It's kind of distracting him from the dinosaurs, to be honest.

"Much better," Shane says, and he's not quite sure what to do with whatever it is that Ryan's got going on right now. He thought he had a pretty good handle on Ryan's moods, but he's not used to Ryan relaxed and kind of, well. Cuddly. He's one step away from resting his head on Shane's shoulder and Shane's in the middle of having a very heated internal debate with himself about if that would be a good thing or not when Ryan scoots even closer and stretches out against him, leaning up to hook his chin on Shane's shoulder.

"I should tell you, though," he says, closer and more breathy than Shane feels is strictly necessary, "if I didn't want to beat you so badly, this date would have just been us doing research for an episode on the dancing plague of 1518."

"Wait," Shane says, forgetting all about trying to control his own stupid emotions. "Ryan, wait, really?"

"Guess we'll never know," Ryan says with a shrug and a smirk, and Shane's debating if he wants to kiss him or smack him (he definitely wants to do both) when Ryan leans down and rests his head against Shane's shoulder, settling in and turning back to the movie. Shane takes a very deep breath and tries to focus on Mr. DNA and hope that Ryan can't hear how fast his heart is beating.

-

"So," Ryan says, jumping back onto the love seat with the camera turned toward them. He's sitting close, and Shane desperately tries to remind himself that it's all for the shot like Ryan didn't just spend the majority of the movie laying on his shoulder. "Good date?" 

"It'll do," Shane says, deliberately baiting him into bickering for the camera, and by the time Ryan stops filming he's half in Shane's lap and there's popcorn all over them both, and Shane takes the camera on a whim, using his reach to do a full body pan of the destruction. Okay, and maybe the close proximity, for prosperity. 

"Pretty good date," he says with a shrug at the lens, and Ryan pumps his fist into the air and nearly socks Shane in the jaw for how close they are.

"Nailed it!" Ryan says happily, and Shane should be looking at the camera, should be rolling his eyes or shaking his head, but he can't take his eyes off of Ryan, smiling widely and a little flushed and pressed against Shane's side, and Shane quicklys turns off the camera before he does something stupid and has his humiliation documented.


	7. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I left my phone in the bedroom," he says, which makes no sense, but then he just stares at Ryan expectantly for a second, and what is he supposed to do if Shane left his phone, he's got bigger things to worry about, but then Shane rolls his eyes and grabs Ryan's hand and says, too loud, "help me look, it's your husbandly duty," and oh. _Oh_. Oh, shit.

"This isn't the way to Chipotle," Ryan says.

"This hasn't been the way to Chipotle in about thirty minutes," Shane points out, and Ryan flushes. He may or may not have been busy focusing on not staring dreamily at Shane's profile this entire time. He was a little bit distracted, sue him. You try realizing you want to bang your best friend and have for a while. It throws a person off their game.

"Are you kidnapping me?" Ryan asks, only half joking.

"Yep," Shane replies easily. "That is the most logical conclusion."

"No, seriously, where are we going? Wait, are we not getting food? Shane, I'm hungry."

"You'll get food," Shane says, and his eyes are still firmly on the road but now Ryan has an excuse for his eyes to be firmly on Shane, and he sees him smile fondly. "But first you get a surprise."

"What kind of surprise? Is this all just a ploy so you don't have to watch the game with me? Because I know you don't like sports but it's one game, man, c'mon."

Shane smiles wider.

"What. What's that smile?" Ryan asks, immediately suspicious. He knows that smile. It means Shane is about be insufferably smug about something. "What have you done?"

-

"This is _cheating_ ," Ryan hisses, but there's no real heat behind it and they both know it. He's too busy staring, wide eyed, around the suite. The luxury suite that Shane has booked with an expansive view of the field where the Chargers are warming up.

"How is this cheating?" Shane asks, wandering over to the table full of various appetizers and popping something wrapped in bacon into his mouth.

"One date each. We plan one date each, and mine won, mine _clearly_ won, and now you're trying to one up me." Ryan's never been particularly great at reacting to people going out of their way for him.

"Or," Shane says, advancing on him in a way that makes Ryan want to backup and press forward simultaneously, "I really, really liked the date you planned and thought you deserved something better than a sneaker museum and a drunken fight."

When he stops, Ryan has pressed himself against the glass windows overlooking the field and Shane is closer than necessary, staring down at him with a look that Ryan really, really wants to be reading right. 

The door opens, and Ryan honest to god squeaks. Luckily, Shane is a human who goes to greet the chef because apparently there is also a private chef for the private suite and he's asking their opinions on their game day meal. Ryan hears the words steak and shrimp and hears Shane mention popcorn, but mostly he hears his own stupid, idiot heart beating in his ears.

-

"Too fancy?" Shane asks about an hour into the game. Ryan's been studiously focused on the game and shoveling food into his mouth, occasionally telling Shane why something's exciting or disappointing but mostly trying to avoid making a fool of himself again.

"What? No, this food's great, man," he says, stuffing another giant shrimp into his mouth.

"I meant this," Shane says, waving his hand vaguely at their surroundings. "I thought it'd be fun, but I'm thinking maybe the whole sweating in the sun being surrounded by screaming people thing is part of it?"

"You're like an alien sometimes," Ryan laughs, and he can't help smiling stupidly at Shane. "Yeah, it's part of it," he says, wincing as Shane's face falls just enough that only Ryan would notice. "This is good, though," he says, reaching out to squeeze Shane's knee before he can stop himself. "This way you're actually watching it with me instead of listening to pretentious indie music on your headphones and ignoring me."

"Only some of it is pretentious," Shane says, and Ryan can't help but notice that his brain is helpfully ignoring all the signals he is sending it to move his hand from Shane's knee. "I'm honored, though, that you'd sacrifice warm beer and other people's b.o. just for me."

"I mean, just this once," Ryan says, and then he has some sort of muscle spasm because he's squeezing Shane's knee, and Shane's looking at his hand, and then his eyes, and then his _mouth_ , and now Ryan has lost control of his hand _and_ his tongue because it darts out to lick his lips, and Shane shifts, just a little, swaying forward and then back like he's fighting himself on it. 

There's a sudden loud, shrill beep to his left, and it takes Ryan a second to figure out what's going on before he recognizes the low battery warning of the camera that he had forgotten was set up across the room, pointed directly at them. Shit.

"Got it," Shane says, too loudly, jumping up quickly. "Got it, I have a backup battery in my bag, I'm just gonna-"

"Yeah," Ryan says stupidly. "I'll just. Be here."

"Cool."

"Cool."

Ryan really and truly hates that he will now always associate Chargers games with awkward boners. 

-

"I can't believe I got to meet the team," Ryan says, bouncing a little in his seat and not even feeling embarrassed about it. "You didn't tell me that part."

"Mystery," Shane says grandly from behind the wheel. "It keeps the romance alive, baby!" Ryan promptly ignores the little hitch in his breath in reaction to _that_ and instead literally sits on his own traitorous, treacherous hands as soon as Shane stops at a red light, just in case. 

"You want a beer?" Ryan asks when they get home. The suite had been cool and all, but they'd had fancy micro brews and honestly Ryan _had_ kind of missed the shitty Coors he would have been drinking otherwise.

"Sure," Shane says, kicking off his shoes and tossing his keys on the table by the door. Ryan takes a second to watch him, and it's not like Shane wasn't at home in his apartment before, they spent enough time at each other's places outside of work that any awkward house guest niceties had long since faded away, but it feels different, suddenly.

It feels like Shane belongs here, like they really are coming home from a date to their shared place, like they really are going to drink beer and watch a movie and then brush their teeth together and climb into bed, and Ryan clenches his fists until his fingers hurt in an effort to avoid following that thought to it's natural, bed-related conclusion.

"Thanks," Shane says when Ryan hands him a beer after he takes a moment to get his shit in order. He fully intends to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, but once again his body betrays him and he drops down right next to Shane, picking up the remote and changing channels idly.

"So, nervous about tomorrow?" Shane asks, and Ryan frowns. 

"Why would I be?"

"You know, the grand divorce ceremony," Shane says, like it's obvious. "The talking heads about our week of wedded bliss?"

"Oh," Ryan says. "Oh, right." It's not like he'd forgotten. More like he didn't want to think about the fact that tomorrow he would go home without Shane trailing after him, and he would go to bed without Shane in it, and he would have to cook his own breakfast the next morning, and aside from the one obvious, big thing he's ignoring, Ryan's been ignoring a lot, he realizes.

"So, you gonna talk me up?" Shane asks, nudging his shoulder. "Tell all the folks out there in internetlandia what a good fake husband I am?"

"I mean, you're okay," Ryan says, swallowing heavily and willing his brain to, just this once, have some fucking self control. 

"Oh, Ryan," Shane says. "C'mon, you met the team! All those strapping young men and their strapping young muscles and boy oh boy, did you see the way they threw that ball and did that sport? Quality stuff."

"I can't believe you're this ignorant about sports, I know you're playing it up, I know it. I also can't believe you had to fucking one up me," Ryan grumbles, leaning into the slight twinge of genuine annoyance he's feeling. "That movie date was great, and you know it. I refuse to believe this was out of the goodness of your heart only, you just had to outdo me."

"Yeah, well you're the one who said it was a competition," Shane shrugs, and then he turns to give Ryan one his wide smiles, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his nose scrunched up. "What's wrong, Bergara? You a sore loser?" He's full on taunting Ryan now, and usually it makes Ryan laugh, makes him light up and lob Shane's shit right back at him, but this time it just makes him want to climb in Shane's lap and shut him up. 

"Why?" he asks, ignoring the way his voice sounds a little deeper than usual. "Looking for an excuse to give me another massage?" He sees Shane's eyes actually change from their usual teasing glint to something darker, and heavier, and Ryan feels like Shane must be able to hear him when he gulps like he's a fucking cartoon character.

Shane pulls back and stands up, and Ryan's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed, but Shane just glances tight lipped at the camera on the wall.

"I think I left my phone in the bedroom," he says, which makes no sense, but then he just stares at Ryan expectantly for a second, and what is he supposed to do if Shane left his phone, he's got bigger things to worry about, but then Shane rolls his eyes and grabs Ryan's hand and says, too loud, "help me look, it's your husbandly duty," and oh. _Oh_. Oh, shit. 

-

Ryan trails after Shane into the bedroom without question and only trips over his feet a little bit, but when he follows him through the door instead of finding himself pressed up against it, he finds Shane sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, and fuck. Ryan has been reading this entire thing all wrong, he has been making a fucking _fool_ of himself and not only is it all on camera, he's made Shane feel weird and probably lost his best friend, and-

"Stop freaking out," Shane says quietly. "I can hear you."

"You're freaking out too," Ryan snaps, and winces. "Shane, fuck, look, I'm sorry. I thought. Well, I didn't think, or I thought too much, I don't know, thinking is confusing, but I thought that-" He can't actually make himself say it, and he chances a look at Shane to find Shane smiling up at him, softer than usual in a way that makes Ryan's stomach swoop, and Shane's really got to stop looking at him like that if he wants Ryan to get over this fucking crush.

"Shut up, Ryan," Shane says with that same stupid, soft look on his face.

"That's my line," Ryan says, and then Shane's standing up, and he's walking toward Ryan just like earlier in the suite and when Ryan's back hits the door he closes his eyes and tips up his face and wonders when he got brave enough to think that was a good idea.

"We doing this?" Shane asks, his voice low and close enough that Ryan can feel the words brush over his lips. 

Ryan just nods, and if Shane waits much longer he feels like he might start to shake, which would be mortifying. 

"Look at me," Shane says, and Ryan groans internally but blinks his eyes open. Shane's got him caged against the door, leaning down, his eyes dark and wide and searching on Ryan's face. "Are you sure you want this for real? Not just because the video's maybe messing with your head?"

"I got over blaming it on the video days ago," Ryan says honestly, his voice shaky and much higher pitched than he'd like it to be in this particular moment. "Catch up, long legs."

Shane smirks at him, and Ryan hates that he finds that sexy now instead of annoying but then Shane's kissing him, his hand holding Ryan's jaw and tilting his chin up, kissing him just soft enough to give Ryan a chance to pull away, so Ryan leans into it. He presses his lips against Shane's in earnest, his hands going straight for Shane's hair. It's as soft under his hands as he thought it would be, and Ryan doesn't mean to but he tugs a little, just enough to get Shane to step even closer until Ryan is well and truly pinned against his bedroom door, and Ryan is not used to this.

He's not used to it, but he's been thinking about it. How it would be different, what it would feel like to be the smaller one, the one leaning up to kiss, and it turns out it feels pretty fucking great. Shane's hands are so big, and it just makes him feel even smaller and Ryan's also not used to the kind of heat that's twisting his stomach right now, making him want to press in closer, to feel the scratch of Shane's stubble against more than just his face, and he makes a needy noise he's never made before into the kiss, groaning outright against Shane's mouth when it makes Shane kiss him even harder, his hand grabbing onto Ryan's hip to try to get him even closer, and, oh. Hey. That's Shane's dick pressed against his hip, and would you look at that, that is his dick pressed against Shane's leg, and Ryan has to bite back a whine when Shane pulls away.

It's a hell of a first kiss.

"I wasn't done," Ryan says, and his voice comes out whiny anyway as he tries to get back to Shane's mouth. 

"I think we kind of have to be," Shane says, his forehead resting against Ryan's. They're both breathing heavily, and Shane's still holding his hip but he's holding him back, now, which Ryan thinks is an awful idea.

"That's an awful idea."

Shane drops his hand from Ryan's jaw to tilt his chin up, and Ryan thinks he's won right up until Shane brushes their lips together and doesn't pull away as he says, "If we're doing this, I'm not doing it when there are cameras around."

"The camera in here is off," Ryan tries, more desperate than he'd like to admit.

"The living room one stays on," Shane reminds him, brushing another kiss against Ryan's lips like he can't help himself. "Trust me," he mutters when he pulls back. "I heard you during that massage. It'll pick up the noise and I think gags are a little kinky for our first time."

Ryan flushes, but Shane's right. He gathers every ounce of willpower he has and pushes him back until he can step out from between Shane and the door. He can feel Shane's eyes on him, looking him up and down blatantly, and if he looks even half as ruffled and flushed as Shane does, then yeah. Ryan gets it. 

"I don't know," he says, looking back at Shane just as obviously. "I've wanted to gag you even before I realized I wanted to fuck you, so don't rule it out."

"How did I know you'd be an insufferable tease?" Shane groans.

"You're the one who fake married me," Ryan says with a shrug, and then he turns and leaves the room before he jumps Shane anyway, noises be damned.

-

"Hey, Ryan?" Shane says that night. They're in bed with the most space they've had between their bodies since the first night, but Ryan is hyper aware of every single breath that Shane takes, of exactly how much he'd have to move to touch him. It's going to be a long night.

"I can't wait to divorce you tomorrow," Shane says, earnestly, and Ryan laughs helplessly until both of them are wheezing and almost crying with it. That is going to play great on camera.

"Yeah," he finally says, once he can talk again. "Yeah, me fucking too, big guy."


	8. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's Get It On.mp3

"You heard it here first, folks, Ryan Steven Bergara sleeps in Hello Kitty pajamas and uses a nightlight!" Shane exclaims the second the camera is pointed at him.

"I do not!" Ryan says, jumping into frame to defend himself before he realizes they're still setting up. "Take this seriously or I won't say any of the nice things I was planning to say about you." Shane rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner and then tosses Ryan a wink once the camera is actually recording. 

"It was incredibly easy being married to Ryan," Shane says once the camera's actually rolling. Ryan wonders if his smile really does look more fond than usual or if he's being paranoid. 

"We've been best friends for years now, it was basically like a week long sleepover. We did not braid each other's hair but we did talk about cute boys. Ryan's very into that handsome Hemsworth fellow, did you know?"

With all of the many, many things Shane could say, Ryan will take it.

"He's also a wonderful little spoon." He knew he was getting off too easy. 

-

"It didn't suck," Ryan says, trying his best not to make eye contact with Shane behind the camera. "It really was just kind of a logical extension of our friendship. Not that I think it would be logical if Shane and I got married," he adds quickly when he sees Shane raise an eyebrow out of the corner of his eye. "I'm just saying, it was all the fun of hanging out with the added bonus of someone cooking for me."

"What about the dates, talk about that," the producer prompts.

"The dates were awesome," Ryan says, parroting back the question. "The sneaker museum was cool as shit, and even though he only did it to show me up, the Chargers game was probably the best date I've ever been on." He's trying very hard not to let himself smile as widely as he wants to.

"I'm a catch, baby!" Shane yells from off camera, loud enough to be picked up by the mics.

"You're okay," Ryan says, making a show of rolling his eyes for the camera and biting his lip to keep the stupid, lovestruck smile off of his face. 

-

"Well, boys, I have to say I'm surprised to find myself back here," Curly says solemnly. He's dressed in head to toe black with a veiled fascinator perched in his hair. "I'm in mourning." 

"Clearly," Shane says. He's holding Ryan's hands even though they have yet to be instructed to do so. Ryan hopes the camera doesn't pick up the way he keeps idly running his thumb over Ryan's knuckles. 

"I think we all hoped that this little experiment would lead to the obvious conclusion that the rest of us have seen coming for a while."

"Homicide?" Ryan asks.

"True love," Curly hisses at him. "Don't think I don't know that you're the problem here." Shane gives Ryan a very, very obvious glance and Ryan just barely holds back from stomping on his giant foot in retaliation. 

"Sorry to disappoint, Curly," Shane says gamely. "There's always the next time we get fake married."

"Don't tempt them," Ryan says, squeezing his hands and wanting to kiss the charming smile off of Shane's stupid charming face. 

"Alright," Curly sighs. "Let's get this over with."

"Yes," Ryan says, swallowing heavily as his brain takes thoughts about kissing Shane and spirals rapidly out of control. "Let's."

-

The rest of the day is, without exaggeration, torture.

They made a tactical error here. Waiting until the week was over and the cameras were gone was smart in theory, but in reality it meant working an entire day next to Shane knowing that he couldn't touch him, or, frankly, even look at him because looking at him made Ryan want to touch him and touching would lead to kissing and kissing would lead to sex and Ryan's pretty sure that fucking Shane on his desk wouldn't be the best career move, no matter how tempting it is. 

It was only a small comfort that Shane was clearly having the same problem, and Ryan almost feels bad for everyone around them as he goes Full Shane and comments wryly on any and everything. It's only four when Ryan breaks and starts to pack up his stuff, throwing Shane's laptop in his bag and grabbing him by the wrist.

"C'mon," he says, dragging him away from where he's proposing a Worth It episode about sex toys. 

"There are gold ones, real gold! I've seen it on the internet," Shane says. "Ryan, back me up."

"No," Ryan says flatly. "We're going home early, remember? Week's over, big guy, we're getting you packed up and out of my apartment." Shane looks confused and maybe a little hurt for just a second before his brain catches up, and he's so stupid. Ryan desperately wants to kiss him right where he stands. The whole thing is very gross and embarrassing, frankly.

"Right-o, old buddy, old pal!" Shane says, and not even his transatlantic accent is distracting Ryan from wanting to kiss him, which says a lot.

"Good luck getting him out your _heart_!" Steven calls after them, and Ryan doesn't even bother to look back as he flicks him off.

-

Ryan's hands are shaking as he fumbles with his keys, and Shane presses up against his back, reaching around him. 

"Not helping," Ryan says shakily, and Shane laughs but grabs the keys from him anyway, unlocking the door on the first try. Ryan doesn't have time to be annoyed with him, though, he knows Shane's just as eager as he is, he's just better at repressing it because of the secret superpowers that Midwestern people have or some shit like that. Shane talks about it a lot, Ryan usually tunes him out.

He lets Shane walk him through the doorway with his arms still wrapped around Ryan's waist, lets Shane kick the door shut behind them and lean down to kiss at the corner of Ryan's jaw and then Ryan lets himself shiver, lets himself actually feel it now that he's not trying to keep it together in public and holy shit. They're doing this.

"We're doing this, right?" Ryan asks without particularly meaning to. He turns in Shane's arms and then swallows heavily. Shane's eyes are dark and intense in a way Ryan's never seen from him, he looks almost dangerous and it's a far cry from the affable if somewhat sleepy charm that Ryan's used to when Shane looks at him. It makes something coil up inside of him, makes him want to get Shane out of his clothes right this fucking instant. 

"Yeah," Shane says. "Yeah, we're doing this, if you're sure."

"Stop asking if I'm sure and fucking kiss me," Ryan says, and he's going for teasing but it comes out more than a little desperate and needy. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed because Shane takes it as a challenge and suddenly Ryan's being spun around and yanked forward as Shane falls to the sofa. Shane gets a hand on his thigh but Ryan doesn't need the encouragement to crawl into Shane's lap like he's wanted to do for a few days now. 

It doesn't disappoint. For all that Ryan jokes about him being boney, Shane's thighs are strong under Ryan's where they're spread across his legs, and his hands are just the right amount of rough when he guides Ryan down into a kiss with a hand in his hair. Ryan had been a little nervous, under all the horniness, that is, about how this was going to go. What they were going to do, how they were going to do it, who decided what and when, but then Shane's lips meet his and Ryan decides that he'll do pretty much anything Shane wants as long as he keeps kissing him, and he groans into Shane's mouth, trying to press even closer, which is when Shane pulls away.

"Why?" Ryan gasps. Shane's grinning at him, eyes a very appealing mixture of amused and turned on. 

"You're so fucking loud," Shane says, and Ryan flushes immediately, because, yeah. Not always, but sometimes when he's really into it, and he hadn't even realized. 

"Sorry," Ryan says, leaning in and kissing at Shane's jaw. Shane's stubble makes his lips feel raw in a good way, like he can feel every single nerve ending. 

"It wasn't a complaint," Shane says, tilting his head back so Ryan can get at more of his neck, and Ryan doesn't miss the way his voice hitches and his thighs tense when Ryan lets his teeth scrape against skin. "I just feel bad for your neighbors."

"Don't feel bad for them yet, just wait until you stop talking about how loud I am and actually do something about it," Ryan says, raising an eyebrow and deciding to throw caution to the wind and grind his ass down against Shane's lap and yep, at least now he knows he's not the only one already ridiculously hard just from making out.

"Yeah, okay, good point," Shane groans, and then his hands are on Ryan's ass and he's just kind of standing up from the sofa, like Ryan weighs nothing, like Ryan yelping and clinging to his shoulders and hips is not at all a factor for him. It's… kind of ridiculously hot, and not exactly what Ryan had expected from Shane which makes it even hotter. Before he can think too hard about the handful of fantasies he's going to have to adjust with this new knowledge his back is hitting the bed and Shane is crawling up his body which is another thing that should look ridiculous but is somehow very, very hot.

"You with me?" Shane asks, and his breath brushing over Ryan's ear makes him shiver but he's past the point of thinking critically enough to be embarrassed about anything. His dick is the one steering the ship here, his brain is pretty solidly offline, so he just makes what he assumes is an affirmative noise because then Shane's kissing him again. It's better this way, Ryan's spread out and pressed into the mattress under Shane's body, Shane's thigh pressed firmly between his own and Ryan shifts helplessly against it as Shane kisses him deeper.

He slides a hand up Ryan's shirt, his fingers skimming over Ryan's stomach, and Ryan's used to this part. He's good at it, and he sits up just enough under Shane to drag his shirt over his head. Shane's eyes feel heavy on him as they drag over his body, and Ryan lets himself enjoy it, flexing just enough that his abs stand out and he knows his arms look their best, and Shane- rolls his eyes.

"Alright, buddy, let's not get smug. We get it, you're a beautiful muscle boy," Shane says, and Ryan's about to protest right up until Shane grabs his hands and holds his arms above his head, leaning in to kiss his way down them, stopping to suck a mark onto the skin over Ryan's biceps. It's not the way he's used to people reacting when he takes off his shirt, it's usually either blatant appreciation or immediate mocking but he can work with this, especially when Shane keeps moving down his body, nipping at his neck and his shoulders and kissing so gently at Ryan's nipples that it's just a blatant tease. 

Shane keeps it up until he's _squirming_ , until he's aware of exactly how loud he's being now, breathless moans and flat out whines. 

"What do you want?" Shane asks, finally dragging his mouth away from Ryan's chest. 

"Touch me, you asshole, fuck," Ryan grits out. He's painfully hard and he's still in his jeans. He can feel the wet fabric of his underwear dragging across the head of his cock every time he moves and he can't _stop_ moving, not with Shane still holding his fucking arms over his head and grinding his thigh against Ryan's cock and Ryan is starting to suspect that he really is a sexual deviant. He's clearly getting off on this, and it's not like Ryan's _not_ getting off on it, but these are his thoughts so that means Shane's the only deviant in the room at the moment.

"Technically I am touching you," Shane says, pushing his thigh against Ryan's cock until he gasps and jerks against the pressure before sliding his hands slowly down Ryan's arms, dragging just enough to tickle.

"And you called me the tease yesterday," Ryan grits out. Shane's not holding his arms anymore, but he keeps them where they are and doesn't question why too closely.

"In my defense, I've been wanting to do this for way longer than you," Shane says. "I've had time to think." He says it as a joke, but he also won't quite meet Ryan's eyes, and his heart gives a pathetic throb in his chest at the thought of all the time he's spent with no idea of what Shane was actually thinking and feeling. Ryan does the only thing he can think to do in response, he sits up and winds his hands into Shane's hair and kisses him, softer and slower than they have all day, hoping Shane will get what he's trying to say without having to actually say it. 

He doesn't know if it works, but Shane sinks down against him and lets Ryan kiss him, his hands coming up to cup Ryan's jaw in a way that Ryan's already becoming familiar with. He trails his thumb along Ryan's cheekbone and this time Shane's the one groaning into the kiss and pressing closer and closer, the one whining when Ryan pulls his mouth away.

"What about you?" he asks, biting back a laugh at the dazed look Shane gives him in response. "You said you've had time to think. What'd you think about? What do you want?" Shane closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath, and Ryan's never felt more eager for an answer in his life.

"I'm gonna blow you now, if that's okay," Shane says calmly, blinking his eyes open. Ryan nods dumbly because his mouth won't work, and the second he does Shane is sliding down the mattress and putting his mouth on Ryan's cock without even bothering to take his pants off. 

"Jesus, okay," Ryan says, trying not to buck up against Shane's face. It already feels good, even through his clothes, and Ryan has a feeling he is going to come pretty much the second Shane actually gets his mouth on him. It's not his fault, though, Shane's been teasing him for ages and the last few days have been the most confusing and sexually tense of Ryan's entire life. He's been through a lot, and so has his dick.

"Shane," he groans out when the friction of his jeans and his wet underwear gets too be too much, and then Shane is looking up the length of his body, his hair going in every direction at once and his eyes dark and his mouth already red and slick, and fuck. Scratch that. Ryan might come before Shane even gets him out of his pants.

"Yeah, right," Shane says, and Ryan clenches his jaw and does his very best to withstand Shane taking off his pants and underwear without coming all over himself. It's a near thing. 

Shane wastes absolutely no time in sinking his mouth down around Ryan's cock, one second he's trying not to focus too hard on Shane's big hand wrapped around him, and the next he's inside of Shane's mouth, hot and wet and sudden. Ryan's hands fly to Shane's head and then just kind of hover there. He knows not everyone likes that but he also can't use his mouth for anything but panting out harsh breaths and deep groans at the moment, and then Shane's mouth is pulling off of him with a long, hard draw that makes his hips jerk up helplessly. 

"C'mon," Shane says, and his voice is hoarse and his bottom lip is red and shining with spit, and Ryan reaches out mindlessly and presses against it with his thumb, his hips stuttering forward again when Shane sucks it into his mouth. "You can," Shane says, and then he grabs Ryan's hand and drops it to his head when Ryan just stares blankly at him. 

Shane very deliberately holds eye contact this time as he takes Ryan cock back into his mouth, very deliberately presses his head back into Ryan's hand before taking him in even deeper, and then he does something with his tongue that finally makes Ryan snap out of it because holy shit. He tightens his grip in Shane's hair and tries desperately to last but then Shane's making these deep, pleased noises that vibrate around his cock and Ryan tugs at Shane's hair, trying to pull him off. 

He's trembling with the strain of holding back but Shane just shakes his head gently in Ryan's grip and sinks down even lower, sucking harder, and he curls up around Shane's head when he comes, his entire body seeming to jerk forward with the force of it. Shane keeps going, dragging it out of him, and he only stops when Ryan gets so sensitive that he shoves at Shane's shoulder until he pulls off.

"Fuck," he says eloquently, collapsing back against the pillows and reaching blindly for Shane. He makes contact with Shane's ear and tugs until Shane laughs low and hoarse and crawls back up the bed. The second he's close enough, Ryan turns and buries his face in Shane's chest. 

"You okay there, buddy?" Shane asks, and Ryan knows he should laugh but fuck. Shane's voice sounds raw and Ryan just had maybe the most intense orgasm of his life and he's still shaking a little and he's not sure he _is_ okay so he just leans up and kisses Shane, messy and desperate as he clings to Shane's shoulders and Shane pets through his hair and down his back in long, soothing sweeps.

"Okay," Ryan says once he's calmed down and he can feel his own limbs again. "Okay, so that was-" He's not sure what he wants to say here. He's at a loss so instead he just sits up and starts to tug at Shane's clothes.

"Take these off," he says, his head clearing when he realizes that Shane's still fully dressed and very much hard. "I'm going to touch your dick now."

"God, you really are the last of the great romantics," Shane says, dreamy and exaggerated, and Ryan rolls his eyes. 

"Do you want me to touch your dick or not?" he asks, and it has the desired effect, Shane shimmying out of his pants and nearly kicking Ryan off of the bed in his haste to do so as Ryan pulls his shirt over his head. 

Shane's so long, there is just so _much_ of him, and Ryan really does want to take his time and touch him all over until Shane's the one who's shaking and begging, but maybe next time. Right now, Ryan just wants to get his hand on Shane's dick because he has been thinking about it almost non-stop for the past few days and he's so eager for it that he's not even embarrassed about it anymore. It's just become a fact of life. Ryan is maybe not only theoretically into dick, but actively into Shane's dick. It's a problem he can solve now, and he tugs Shane's underwear down, and down some more, and down even more, and his legs really are much too long.

"Okay, well," Ryan says, his brain blanking for a minute when he finally looks back up the long line of Shane's body. "That's just… that's uncalled for, there's no need for that." 

"Are you insulting my dick in the middle of sex?" Shane asks. He's flushed all the way down his chest and his cock is huge, curving up to rest heavy on his stomach. 

"I'm not insulting it," Ryan says carefully. "I'm just questioning if it needs to be that big. It seems unnecessary."

"I'm sorry?" Shane asks, and Ryan takes a steadying breath and tries to take control of his own brain. 

"I'm just saying," Ryan notes as he moves back up Shane's body. "You just dicked yourself out of a blowjob because that is not a beginner sized dick. That's AP dick. Hey, you get it? Dicked yourself out of it?" Ryan might be panicking just a little.

"Ryan, please touch me," Shane says, his voice strained. "We can discuss logistics later, but if you still want to touch my dick please, please touch my dick." Ryan's own cock stirs a little at that, and huh. Shane begging apparently _really_ does it for him. Ryan's learning a lot about himself, even still. "I mean, if you still want to."

"Right, shit, sorry," Ryan says, because Shane's cock is straining and wet against his stomach and it's been a while since they started this, and Ryan maybe needs to stop getting lost in his own head before he ruins this. 

"Shane," Ryan says seriously, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "I still very much want to touch your dick."

Shane groans, and he grabs Ryan hard by the back of his neck, pulling him in and kissing him roughly, and just like that Ryan's done with teasing because Shane's hauling him on top of his body and Ryan can feel him, hard and huge and rubbing desperately against Ryan's stomach. Fuck, okay, he is really into this. He knew was into this, knew he was into Shane, but yeah. Okay. Ryan is now fully on board with Shane and his dick, no matter how inconveniently large it may be. 

"Shh," Ryan whispers when Shane groans as he pulls away. "You're too tall, can't reach the way I want," and Shane just nods at him, his eyes huge and dark and really adding to this whole desperate vibe he's got going on, and Ryan gets it now, why Shane liked it so much when he got embarrassing and whiny and loud.

Speaking of loud, Shane moans when Ryan finally wraps his hand around Shane's dick, and he reaches down with his free hand and squeezes himself at the same time he squeezes around Shane. He's half hard again, already, just from this, and he's a little amazed by that but he's more amazed by the way he can feel Shane twitch and throb under his hand as he starts to move. Shane's got his head thrown back, and Ryan gets a rhythm going and moves back up his body, kissing and biting at Shane's neck because he wants to and he can now. 

"Fuck," Shane gasps when Ryan nips at his jaw. "Ryan, fuck, I'm not going to last very long, just so you know." His voice is shot and Ryan leans down to kiss him, lets Shane pant and whine against his mouth while his hands grasp at Ryan's back, hard enough that he wonders if he'll bruise. He kind of hopes so. Shane pulls away from the kiss with a groan, his hips jerking up into Ryan's grasp now, which is also hot, everything about this is so hot, and even though he's not really a talker during sex, he feels like Shane should know.

"So hot," he says into Shane's hair. Shane's got his face buried in Ryan's neck, breathing harsh against his skin. "This is so hot, you're so hot, you gonna come for me?" He's not sure where this is coming from, but Shane doesn't seem to mind. He's starting to shake a little in Ryan's arms, which is even hotter, and Ryan tightens his grip and moves faster, letting his palm press in over the head of Shane's cock at the end of his strokes. 

Shane bites down on his neck when he starts to come, bites hard, and Ryan gasps along with Shane as he comes hot and wet all over Ryan's hand, gasps and keeps stroking because doesn't want to let go. 

"Fuck," he says, Shane's mouth still on his neck. "Fuck, okay, that's. I don't think we have to worry about me being into dick anymore."

"Were- were we worried about that?" Shane grits out, pulling back and sinking down into the pillows. 

"I was, a little," Ryan says, reluctantly letting go of Shane's dick and reaching for the tissues beside the bed to clean up. "But at the very least I am into _your_ dick."

"Okay," Shane says. "Well, that's good to know."

"It's a lot of dick to be into," Ryan says reaching out and trailing his fingers over Shane's cock where it's starting to go soft against his belly. It's deeply unfair that Shane is apparently not only a shower but also a bit of a grower. 

"Ryan, please shut up," Shane says, but he's laughing, laughing and reaching to tug Ryan down against his side. "This is the afterglow. This is where we cuddle, and we stop talking about my dick."

"Can we talk about my dick? Because I'm pretty sure I could go again," Ryan says, and then yelps when Shane reaches out and tickles him right over his ribs where he's the most ticklish. "Fuck, okay, fine, cuddling," he says, turning under Shane's arm and squirming closer. 

"Cuddling," Shane says happily. He's stroking his palm up and down Ryan's back and it's nice, kind of soothing, and they should probably shower but even half hard Ryan mostly just wants to go to sleep right here, naked and sweaty and wrapped up in Shane's arms. God, he's so gross.

He looks up to tell Shane how gross he is, and finds Shane staring down at him, his eyes soft and sleepy and, oh, good. Shane's gross too. 

"Stop swooning," Ryan says, like he's not doing the same. "You're so into me, that's so embarrassing for you."

"It really is," Shane agrees, and okay, he left himself wide open for that burn, but Shane leans down and kisses him, sweet and lingering, and it's all very romantic right up until Ryan yawns into the kiss.

"Oops," he says sheepishly when Shane pulls back, laughing.

"It's okay," Shane says, smiling indulgently at him and reaching up to push Ryan's hair back from his forehead. "We were married after all, this is classic married sex. We don't have to worry about the romance, we get to have good sex and then fall asleep."

"We really did this whole thing backwards, huh?" Ryan wiggles under the blankets when Shane pulls them back up the bed and settles back against Shane's chest once he's comfortable. "Not to mention you just robbed me of my virtue out of wedlock. Now who will have me?"

"It's all part of my dastardly plan," Shane says around a yawn. Ryan reaches over him to turn off the lamp, and Shane uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around Ryan and pull him even closer. "If no one else will have you, it means I get to keep you."

"Gross," Ryan says, hiding his smile against Shane's chest.

"Super gross," Shane agrees, pressing a kiss against Ryan's head. "Another super gross adventure for the matri-homies."

"Oh, shit," Ryan says sleepily, "Shit, that's way better than the blissful boys. Do you think it's too late to change the hashtag?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [fourtccn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourtccn/pseuds/fourtccn) for the brilliance of "matri-homies."
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and commented! This was my first attempt at fic in a good long while, so all the kindness meant the world! I'm doing the whole tumblr thing because I think you're legally obligated to now, and you can find me [here](https://aspookycryptidsock.tumblr.com).
> 
> Finally, just to address a message I got, please **do not** under any circumstance link this or any other fic I may write to anyone involved with the show or with Buzzfeed in general. Buzzfeed already did this video series, it was great, I highly recommend Jen and Kelsey's episode and I highly discourage anyone from campaigning to make the premise of this fic a reality.


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